How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. ’ Noting the twinkle in her great-aunt’s eye, Melusine forebore to comment, grateful to Lucilla for adjuring Captain Roding to give an account of himself. G. ‘That’s wicked, that is. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves.
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